Lizard wine, p.4
Lizard Wine, page 4
"What we need," Rebecca said, "is a telephone."
"There aren't any phones here," Tulie said, her breath still coming hard from her fast walk in the cold and her anger at Elise.
"Hey, maybe you guys could drive us to one," Elise said.
"Nope," said Niles. "We're camped for the night."
"Well, couldn't you just kind of like uncamp?" Elise was persistent.
"Couldn't you camp with us?" Niles asked.
"I don't think so."
"Elise," Rebecca whined. "It's so cold out there."
Tulie could smell the man sitting to her right, the one on the passenger side. He smelled clean and fresh and masculine. He moved slightly so that his thigh matched hers, all along its length.
Niles emptied the coldpack of Bud and handed one up to the front seat. The Songster took it, opened it and handed it to Tulie. She heard tops pop in the back seat, and could hear Elise as she drank at least half of hers, then burped. She sounded stupid. God, everything Elise did was stupid.
Tulie felt something behind her, something in her hair, and she jerked forward, brushing at it.
It was this guy's hand. He had his arm around her and he was playing with her hair. Little warning signs began to flash in her mind, but she ignored them. Let Elise see her with a man. Let Elise see that she could be attractive to a guy. Show Elise that she could be attracted to a guy, too. Fucking Elise.
She drank her beer and let him toy with her hair, and then her ear.
"Say," Elise said, "what are all your names?"
"I'm Niles, the driver is Buck, and the other one is the Songster."
"The Songster? That's a weird name."
"Yeah?" Niles said. "What're your names?"
"I'm Rebecca," the one next to him said. "This over here is Elise, and Tulie's in the front seat."
"Tulie?" The Songster said, quiet and low. Tulie felt his voice resonate in her lower belly. She looked over at him and could see his eyes shining. She could smell his breath–beery with some marijuana on it. Warm. His thumb brushed against her cheek.
"So what were you ladies doing out there anyway?" Niles asked.
"Headed to Bend," Elise said. "And my stupid car. . . I don't know what the hell is wrong with it. I need to call Triple A."
"If you'd take care of it. . ." Tulie said.
"Nobody's going to come by here tonight," Buck said. "It'll be safe until morning."
"Yeah, but I'm not going to sit here until morning. Maybe we can find somebody else. Somebody who's willing to drive us to a phone."
"I'm staying here," Tulie said, her throat tight, her voice firm. Songster squeezed her shoulder in approval.
"You're kidding." Elise said. "Rebecca?"
"I don't know," Rebecca said, and it sounded like she was about to whine. "You can't go out there by yourself, but then I don't want Tulie to stay here by herself, either. Don't you think we ought to stay together?"
"Yes. C'mon, guys, drive us to a phone," Elise said.
"I don't think so," Buck said. "Camping is much more fun. Stay with us. All of you."
"Please?" Rebecca said. "You guys can't send us out into that cold again."
"We're not sending you anyplace," Buck said. "Stay."
"No way," Elise said. "C'mon, Tulie, let's go."
"No. You guys go. I'll be all right."
"Tulie!"
"I'm not going with you, Elise. Period." The anger blazed again, burning hot spots in her face, making her see red globules in front of her eyes in the dark. "You go on, have your good time." She said sarcastically. "These guys will give me a ride home in the morning. Won't you, Songster?"
The Songster nodded slowly.
"Tulie." Elise leaned up against the back of the front seat. "I'm not about to leave you here with three strange guys full of beer in an old beater station wagon."
"I'll take my chances, Elise. I'm safer here than with you. You're a pain in the ass. Go on. You just. . . go on."
"Suit yourself, you silly bitch. Come on, Rebecca," Elise said, and the two got out of the car, slamming the door behind them.
"Fuck you," Tulie whispered. She felt herself begin to shake. She gripped her beer can so tight it dented. Heat steamed up to her face from under her bulky coat.
"Wow," Niles said. He lit a cigarette.
"Listen," Buck said. "Why don't we pick up those girls and take them all home?"
"Now?" Niles said.
"Yeah."
"No," the Songster said.
"Songster, this isn't exactly what we all had in mind. . ." but Buck's voice faded into the darkness.
The Songster's lips brushed Tulie's cheek as he removed his arm from behind her and he began to roll some more joints, Soon Tulie was toking and giggling a little bit and feeling better.
Tulie passed the joint to Buck, who toked and passed it on to Niles in the back seat.
"Hey," Niles said. "Looky what I found. Ta-keel-ya."
"It's Elise's," Tulie said.
"Not any more." Niles unscrewed the top and took a drink.
"Where were you girls headed?" Buck asked.
"To a cowboy bar in Bend," Tulie said. "Elise had this idea that a nice looking co-ed could make some money at a cowboy bar. I wasn't in on the money making part of it, I didn't even hear about that part, not until we were halfway here, that is. Then I discover she's going over there to turn tricks. She was probably going to get Rebecca drunk and recruit her. I don't know. I don't know how they could ever think I'd agree to such a thing. So I decided I'd just wait in the car until they were ready to go home." Tulie thought about Elise and Rebecca in their tiny dresses propositioning cowboys. "That Elise. What a bitch."
Niles handed the bottle of tequila to the front seat. The Songster took a long pull and then put his arm back around Tulie's shoulders. He held the bottle while she drank. The liquid warmed her, and she gulped greedily.
"Wait a minute," Niles said. "Those girls were hookers?"
"Catches on fast, doesn't he?" Tulie said. "Elise is, anyway. Rebecca isn't." At least not yet.
"Buck, let's go get them. We'll give them a ride all the way to Bend. Maybe they'll be grateful."
Tulie snorted. "Don't count on it."
"No gas, Niles," Buck said. "Forget it. You guys students at the university?"
"Yeah. I'm liberal arts, but leaning toward psych. Right now I'm studying abnormal psychology. It's grueling. I needed a break." Tulie shifted around in the seat. She was too warm inside her coat. The almost-wreck, the brisk walk, the anger at Elise, the excitement of kissing Elise off to hang out with some new guys–it all contributed to her rise in temperature and made her perspire.
"We were just talking about abnormal psychology," Niles said. "Just before you showed up."
"Yeah?"
The Songster lit another joint and gave it to Tulie.
She inhaled, held it, then exhaled smoke in a rush. It made her a little dizzy. "It may be smoky in here, but it sure is warm. I hate getting cold. In fact, it's warm enough I can take off this bulky coat. Let me out, Songster, and I'll take this thing off."
"Niles, trade us places," the Songster said, and opened the door. It was freezing as they slipped out of the front seat and before she knew it, Tulie's coat was off and she was in the back, pushing Niles out the door. Niles ran around the front of the car and jumped into the front seat next to Buck.
"Gimme another slug of that Jose," Buck said.
Chapter 4
Rebecca stumbled and whined all the way back to the car. Elise kept her hands in her pockets, her head down, her collar up and she just kept moving, even though it felt like little ice crystals were building up on her shins. She let Rebecca whine, it probably kept her warm. Kept her alive at any rate. Elise's blood stayed hot just listening to the little twit.
The Camaro would start as soon as they got back to it, she was certain. It had pulled this trick several times before, but it had never totally failed her. It would start. It had to start. She would will it to start.
But for the first time, doubts began to crawl in to her power play attitude. For the first time, Elise allowed the possibility that she and Rebecca could freeze to death, right here on the highway.
No, she told herself. That is not part of the plan.
The organizational chart of Elise's life always had her at the top of the pyramid. She was the power, she had the power, and anybody who didn't like it wasn't allowed a fingerhold on her life's pyramid. This was one thing she took from the wisdom of her father, and kept close. Be in charge. Paul was a feisty little guy, and very powerful. Everybody danced to Paul's tune. Everybody danced to Elise's, too, or they danced at some other party.
But while Paul's iron fist contained money, Elise's held sex. Great sex. Or the promise of it, anyway. Men were easy to control once she had them by their genitals, and their genitals worked best in their imaginations. Their genitals had no consciences. Elise discovered the power of sex early in life, but she just recently learned how to wield it. She'd practiced on the college boys, and they were a lot of fun, and it was easy to separate them from their allowances, but it was time for her to practice on some real men. Some older men. If she could go to Bend–way, way out of town–and wield the power of the classic little gizmo between her legs, then perhaps she was her daddy's daughter after all.
Once she had the idea, she was eager to try it. She'd had it with students and professors. She was ready for some cowboys.
And a recalcitrant Camaro didn't enter into the picture. Didn't enter into the picture at all.
Neither did freezing to death out here on a lonesome mountain road.
No, that's ridiculous, she told herself, giving a little extra hop for the heat. There was lots of traffic. She'd just flag someone down.
But not a single car or truck passed them the entire time they walked from the campground to the Camaro.
Still, they had their resources. They had their coats, warm down coats, and if worse came to worst, they could trot back down to the campground and snuggle up to those smelly outlaws in that dirty car. Assuming, of course, they were still there.
Tulie would never let them leave the campground without first checking the Camaro, would she? Tulie. What a lame chick. No sense investing any more time in that friendship.
Elise hadn't realized they'd parked so far away. Finally the Camaro came into a view, a dark hump on the side of the road. "C'mon," she urged Rebecca, who stumbled some more and was perhaps crying.
Elise ran the last fifty yards and fumbled with the keys. The door handle was frosted over, as were all the windows. She got the door open, opened the passenger side for Rebecca, who took forever to get there, and even longer to get in.
"Okay, sweetheart," Elise purred, and she put the key in the ignition. She turned it. Nothing.
Fear flushed through her like anger and she sat back, took a deep breath, let out an icy plume and tried again. She was afraid she'd rip the upholstery apart if the car didn't start. She was afraid she'd cry. "Listen, my lovely," she told the car. "This is really important." She stroked the steering wheel and patted the dashboard. She turned the key. The big Chevy engine roared to life.
"Ya-hoo!" Elise shrieked, her power back full force, and Rebecca, teeth chattering, tried to grin. Elise turned the heater on full, which blew frigid air onto their naked knees. But soon it warmed, and they warmed, and the windshield defrosted.
Rebecca began munching on the chips that had Tulie left.
Elise put the car in gear and slowly headed up the mountain.
"Elise?"
"Hmmm."
"We're not still going to Bend."
"You bet we are."
"But what if the car. . ."
"It won't."
"Aren't we going to go back and get Tulie?"
"No," Elise said.
"I think we should."
"She didn't want to come."
"We can't just leave her there."
"We can. We will. We are."
And that was the end of the discussion. Rebecca hunched down in the seat. All the fun of the Friday night road trip was gone. All of it.
Elise drove conservatively, not wanting to spin out on any more black ice. Now she was damned determined to have a good time once they got up there. Damned determined. This was not only a good time, this was flushing out her resume. The chances of her finishing her degree were diminishing by the day, and she had to have some skill to fall back on.
She wished she had a beer. She rooted around in her bag for her bottle of tequila and it wasn't there. Fuck. But they were over halfway to Bend, and soon there'd be enough beer to swim in. Cowboys would be falling all over themselves trying to buy them drinks. She'd get drinks, all right, and she'd get thirty bucks for blow jobs out in the car and sixty for a quickie.
The idea of the cash in her hand–separating those fool men from their money–made her foot a little heavy, and soon they were clicking along as fast as they ever were.
Rebecca just munched.
Elise wondered why she let Rebecca hang around with her. Next time maybe she'd bring Rebecca and maybe she wouldn't. She'd probably do better on her own.
A light sprinkling of snow covered the ground as they came out of the forest and began to see farms, then houses, then stores, and finally the lights of Bend. Elise slowed to just above the speed limit and reached over to touch Rebecca's hand. "It's a party Friday," she said, but she felt that Rebecca had lost the party mood too. They needed to find some cowboys. A couple of tequila shooters would do a world of good for little Rebecca.
She turned left and the cowboy bar she had been told about stood out, true to its "can't miss it" reputation. The parking lot was filled with pickup trucks, many of those with tool chests built right in or lumber racks on the back. Perfect.
Elise eased into the lot. It looked like frozen mud, complete with chuckholes and frozen treadmarks. She rolled down her window and fresh cold air blew in. She breathed deeply. Bass music of a live band pounded through the night.
"All right!" She felt the party mood returning with the beat, and bounced up and down in the seat.
She slipped between two mud-caked trucks and turned off the engine. "If it won't start now," she told Rebecca, I'm sure there will be a couple of guys here who can help us." Then she pulled the rear view mirror over and freshened her makeup. She touched the blush brush to Rebecca's cheeks, which did nothing to ease the scowl on Rebecca's face. Then she put on lipstick and passed it over to Rebecca, who pulled the mirror around to her side, dutifully applied lipstick, then automatically checked her mascara and fluffed her hair.
"Ready?"
Rebecca nodded.
They got out and picked their way over ice crystals and frozen mud to the doorway, where body heat steamed out in a stream like right out of a pressure cooker.
Men in sheepskin coats and cowboy hats moved out of their way as they approached. Elise kept her head down and moved right through the crowd. She felt Rebecca close behind.
Inside, country music twanged from a stage in the far corner. The room was humid and smoky. Elise immediately noticed that they were not dressed appropriately–all the women wore jeans and plaid shirts, just like the men. Some wore vests. Some wore sweaters. Some even wore cowboy hats with colored feathers on the front and little beads dangling down off the back brim.
It's okay, Elise told herself, and pulled her down jacket tighter around her as she moved through the heated bodies toward the bar. She felt Rebecca's fingers clutching her arm as she followed. Elise pushed herself to the bar and ordered two beers. The bartender flipped tops off two brown bottles and set them on the bar amid the sea of spilled beer and sloppy ashtrays. Elise pulled cash out of her purse and paid him, handed a beer to Rebecca, then turned around and leaned against the bar, letting her coat fall open.
Appreciative eyes looked her up and down as the constant stream of men paraded past. Soon a barstool opened up and Elise slid into it. Rebecca stood next to her. Elise crossed her legs and sipped her beer, scouting the crowd for her first target.
Suddenly there was a hand between her legs and a young, bleary-eyed, beery-breathed man leaned into her face. "Hey, sweetie," he said, then his friend jerked him away from her.
"Sorry," the other man said. "C'mon, Dan, leave the lady alone."
Dan leered at her all the way to the door.
Elise pulled her skirt down another half inch. She tried to wipe the distaste off her face and regain her composure.
"Gross," Rebecca said.
Elise just sipped her beer, scanned the crowd and moved a little bit to the music.
The barstool next to her opened up and Elise muscled Rebecca onto it before somebody else got it. No sooner had she climbed up and sat down than an acne-faced boy asked her to dance. Rebecca looked to Elise with a one-eyed squint. Elise shrugged, sipped her beer and continued scanning the crowd.
The boy helped Rebecca off with her coat, which she lay across the barstool. Elise watched men turn as Rebecca walked toward the dance floor. Those long legs were a knockout. And son of a gun if Rebecca didn't know how to two-step. Elise caught glimpses of them as he swirled her around the floor, circle dancing with the rest of the people, Rebecca grinning and laughing.
Elise finished her beer and ordered another.
A man in a blue down vest pushed in to the bar next to her and ordered a pitcher. While he waited, he turned, elbow on the bar, and looked her up and down. "You old enough to be in here?"
Elise turned and fixed him with an icy stare.
"Well," he said. "Guess you are." He paid for the pitcher. "You card this girl, Jake?" he asked the bartender.
Elise looked around at the bartender, then was ashamed she had risen to his bait. He could card her all he wanted. She was twenty-one. But Rebecca wasn't.
He smiled down at her. She hated him for putting her off balance. "From out of town?"
Elise sipped her beer and ignored him.
"Oooh, hard to get, eh? Got an attitude, eh?"
Elise looked over at him again, frantically looking for something to say that would make him go away, but strangely unable to come up with a good dagger line. She wanted something that would wither him where he stood, or pin him to the wall.
